


and it's inbred, kid (so keep your head, kid)

by notearchiver



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drug Use, Dubious Consent, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26364556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notearchiver/pseuds/notearchiver
Summary: Tony had once heard Obie say that if you stood in front of a mirror on the night of a full moon and turned around three times you would see the face of a loved one you had lost. It made sense, then, that he only ever saw himself.
Relationships: James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Obadiah Stane/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: We die afen and afen





	and it's inbred, kid (so keep your head, kid)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cleoday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleoday/gifts).



> Additional content notes at end.
> 
> Title from "[I Won't Send Roses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AE8cPjRRW_Y)" from the musical _Mack & Mabel_.

The cement steps leading up to the brownstone he shared with Rhodey were tilting far too much for this early in the morning, Tony decided. The steps weren't insurmountable but they were definitely a challenge, especially as they kept moving under his feet. Luckily the handrail was quite steady and the metal cool against his cheek, so it wasn't out of the question that he would reach the door. Tony concentrated on the door. Only a few more steps. One. Two—

Tony ran into something, and it was only a strange pressure on his arm that kept him from falling backwards. He looked up.

"Rhodey," Tony said decisively. "Yup. That's you. Definitely you holding me."

"It's me. Now get in the house before the neighbors report you for indecent exposure, Tony." Rhodey's voice was firm, although his face kept blurring. Even so, Tony let his friend drag him into the house and guide him to the couch, where he fell back against the leather.

"Indecent exposure? I thought for sure I found my clothes this time." Tony patted his body. Whatever was under his hands was soft and warm. "That's clothes. I think that's clothes. It can't be indecent exposure if my clothes are on."

"It's indecent because it's your face," Rhodey retorted. "Now close your eyes and don't throw up this time." Tony closed his eyes and listened to the rhythmic sounds of Rhodey walking to the kitchen, rummaging around in something, and then walking back. Something cool landed on his stomach and Tony fumbled around to pick it up. "Drink this. I've already opened it for you."

Tony found the top of the thing—a water bottle—and brought it to his mouth. "You're the best," he said, the words slurred as he tried to talk while sucking water through the spout. Water spilled out onto his lips and cheeks, dribbling down to pool at his sternum.

"Where were you this time?" The noise came from his left, which meant Rhodey must have settled into the extra-cushy chair by the window.

"I was at—" Tony began, but Rhodey cut him off.

"Nevermind. Doesn't matter. Just sleep it off and we'll talk after."

Tony wanted to finish the conversation, wanted to say _I was at a hotel with Obie_ so he didn't have to sit through a conversation the next morning where Rhodey ranted about frat parties or models and being "too smart for that shit" and "don't do drugs, Tony," but Rhodey had turned on the television and in the blur of his mind it was too hard to speak over the noise, so Tony just made sure the water bottle's spout was closed and drifted off to sleep.

\---

Tony opened his eyes slowly, expecting to find Rhodey sitting at the end of the couch, a sports show on, but the house was silent and the lights were off. What was that on his chest? Oh. Yeah. The water bottle. Tony picked it up and blindly set it on the coffee table next to him, then looked at his watch. The hands were blurry, but not as bad as he thought they would be. He could definitely make out the hour hand. And yup, that was why the lights were off. It was two in the morning; he had been out for over fourteen hours and Rhodey was probably asleep.

With a sigh, Tony pushed off the couch and made his way up the stairs, shuffling to his bedroom. It wouldn't hurt to sleep a bit. But first a stop to take a piss. The lights in the bathroom were bright, starkly illuminating his dick as he pulled it out and aimed at the toilet bowl. Tony blinked. Where were his boxers again? Oh. Right. He had been with Obie. They probably got lost somewhere.

He finished up and rather than tucking his dick back into his jeans, Tony leaned against the bathroom counter and pulled them off. His face didn't look any better in the mirror than his dick did under the lights. His skin was pale and a light bruise colored the side of his jaw. He could see smaller bruises in his peripheral vision, dots right below the crease of his elbow.

Tony had once heard Obie say that if you stood in front of a mirror on the night of a full moon and turned around three times you would see the face of a loved one you had lost. It made sense, then, that he only ever saw himself.

He turned off the light.

\---

The pills Obie had in his bag were pretty great, Tony decided. He didn't know how long it had been, but the memory of his discussion with Rhodey that morning was already smoothing over. The only problem was how hot he was feeling, but that could be solved.

Tony was in the middle of struggling out of his t-shirt, the Dead Kennedy's screen-printed logo scraping against his face and covering his eyes, when the door to the hotel room opened.

"I didn't expect you until later tonight, yet here you are." A hand cradled the side of his ribs, and Tony could feel the cool metal of Obie's rings on the thumb nestled in the hair in the hollow of his underarm.

"Rhodey was being a dick so I came here," Tony explained, shimmying a bit until the t-shirt popped over his head. His arms remained tangled in the fabric and he couldn't free them without dislodging Obie's hand, which he didn't feel like. Obie was nice and solid against the warm vibrations of his body.

Obie sighed. "Considering how you acted in the board meeting yesterday, I expect it was you that was being unreasonable."

Tony set his jaw and tried to push up off the bed, but Obie held him in place, so he settled on staring mulishly at his mentor. His eyes burned slightly in the dry hotel air. "I was not unreasonable. Vickers is mad if he thinks we would sell the M-32 for that little." He refused to look away from Obie's answering stare.

"Because of you, Tony, I had to spend all today fixing that contract that should have been signed yesterday." Obie narrowed his eyes and put his free hand on Tony's other shoulder, clamping down tightly. "What did you take?"

Tony attempted to shrug. "Just whatever was in your green bag."

"And you were in my bag because…"

"I was looking for my boxers." Obie squeezed his shoulder harder and Tony winced, the pressure cutting through the fuzz filling his mind. "And whatever I had last night. I liked that," Tony added.

"You liked that," Obie repeated with another squeeze.

Tony nodded his head at the offending hand as best he could. "Hey, Obie, you think you can let up a bit? It's kind of tight." Obie raised his eyebrows and instead of releasing Tony, sat on the bed, side pressed up against Tony's hips, and leaned over the younger man.

"Do you mean this" —and now Obie did release Tony's shoulder to tap at the crook of his arm, still tangled in the t-shirt— "or this?" He grasped Tony's jaw, the tips of his fingers lining up with the small bruises Tony had seen in the mirror the night before.

Tony tried to speak, but Obie was holding his mouth closed and everything was getting slower and harder to do. He thought about pushing Obie off the bed with his knee, but he didn't have the leverage. And besides, why would he? It was Obie.

Something pushed his lips apart, and Tony brought his focus back to center. Looking down his nose, he saw the blurry outline of Obie's hand holding his jaw shut and the man's index finger between his lips. The pressure against his lips felt strange coming from Obie, stranger still that his mouth was still closed and the finger was scraping against his teeth. The vibrations of Obie's nail against his enamel travelled up his nose.

"Tony, there's no need to worry; I'm not mad," said Obie, and Tony blinked. Was he supposed to be worried? He didn't feel much of anything. "But you really can't be going into my bags. Perhaps you need a reminder, yes?"

Tony tried to shake his head, but nothing was moving. Everything was hot, but unlike last night his vision was stable. Obie was still talking, but it was hard to focus when everything was so clear. Including the very clear view he had of Obie undoing his pants and pulling his dick out. It was uncircumcised, unlike Tony's, and as Obie worked his hand over it the head disappeared into the foreskin and reemerged glistening under the fluorescent lights of the hotel room.

The pressure on his jaw eased, and although Tony tried to keep his mouth closed he couldn't fight the finger easing into the space where his wisdom teeth used be, prying it open.

"Easy, Tony. Just like that." Tony watched, a faint twisting in his stomach, as Obie kneeled over him, dick weaving in and out of his vision before Obie guided it between his lips. The pre-come felt tacky against the dryness of his tongue caused by having his mouth held open. "Just like last night. Just be good and I'll find some of what you had last night, okay?"

And because he couldn't nod, Tony relaxed his tongue, took a deep breath, and accepted what Obie gave him.

**Author's Note:**

> Content Notes: Tony takes drugs and is unable to consent to sex, implications that Tony has been purposefully drugged for sex, implication that Tony is underage as he is an MIT student.


End file.
